


When Lance Met Slav

by canicallyoumaddie



Series: Our Story: A Domestic Klance AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drunken Night Out, Early Relationship, M/M, Stealing, They're smol babs, Underage Drinking (Pidge is 19), domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canicallyoumaddie/pseuds/canicallyoumaddie
Summary: The team decides to let loose with a fun night at the bar, but things get a little...interesting.





	When Lance Met Slav

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zizzani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zizzani/gifts).



> So Zizzani told me this story...so I wrote it. And it's great. Feel free to laugh your butts off. ;D  
> Keith and Lance are juniors in college and are in a new relationship at this point, and Hunk is just a Tired Mom. 
> 
> (also, like, drink responsibly and utilize discretion)

“Hey, do you guys wanna go out in a little bit?” Lance asked as he sat on the couch, legs slung over Keith’s lap. He looked over his shoulder at Pidge. “Like  _ out _ out.”

 

Pidge eyed him from her perch on the beanbag and shrugged. “We’d still have to go to Smythe’s though—is that cool with you?”

 

“Well duh, we know. But if we went there, you'd be in?” Lance replied. 

 

Keith patted Lance’s legs thoughtfully, Hunk hummed from the kitchen table, and Pidge shrugged again. “I don't see why not,” she said. 

 

“ _ Nice _ ,” Lance said, wiggling off the couch and holding out a hand toward Keith. “We’re gonna get ready,” he said, gently pulling Keith toward his bedroom to change. 

 

“Hunk, you gonna go?” Pidge asked, and Hunk tapped his pencil against the table thoughtfully. 

 

After a moment, he sighed. “Yeah, I'll go. Someone has to make sure those two make it back to the apartment alive.”

 

***

 

Lance felt like being extra stylish that night, so he was deviating from his classic “jeans, tshirt, and jacket” look. He had put on a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a heather gray loose-fitting tee, and white high tops. He stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bathroom and tied a white cotton button-down around his waist. The rain from that afternoon had stopped, and the night sky looked clear; as a result, he was happy to have more wardrobe flexibility. And hey, it was a Friday; he was looking forward to letting loose. After giving himself one last look, he returned to the living room to wait for his boyfriend to emerge. 

 

Keith pushed his way out of Lance’s bedroom and walked into the living room to face the rest of the group. Keith had been practically living at Lance and Hunk’s apartment since the second semester of their junior year, so he had accumulated a mish-mash of clothing items in Lance’s closet. He usually didn't mind it when Lance gave him suggestions, but today it seemed like Lance was taking advantage of Keith’s fashion indifference. 

 

Keith crossed his arms and pouted, but noticed that Lance had turned a bright pink. That gave him a little bit of a confidence boost. He tugged at the loose black tank top Lance had asked him to wear, trying to cover his ass in the joggers that Lance  _ insisted _ looked amazing. Keith thought the back was too tight, but in Lance’s mind,  _ nothing  _ could be too tight on Keith. 

 

“Are you sure I look ok?” Keith asked nervously, and Lance vigorously nodded his head. 

 

He coughed into the back of his hand. “On second thought...Do we have to go out? Because I'm more than happy to take you back in that room…” Lance replied, earning a groan and gagging noises from both Hunk and Pidge. “ _ Kidding _ , we’re still going out, calm yourself.”

 

***

 

Thankfully, Hunk and Lance’s apartment on campus was only a few blocks away from downtown, where Smythe’s sat sandwiched in between a pizza place and an iPhone repair shop. It was the only bar within walking distance that Pidge could get into, so they’d quickly become regulars. 

 

Despite the rain’s cessation earlier, the traffic cones blocking flood areas remained, and the group had to dodge a few redirected cars as they crossed the street. Nevertheless, the team entered the bar and headed straight for their usual booth beneath the stairs to the second floor.

 

“Babe. Buy me a drink?” Lance asked, curling up in the far corner of the booth before Keith even had a chance to sit down. He flashed him an irresistible grin and Keith rolled his eyes, turning to walk toward the bar. “Thank you!!” He called after him, and slung an arm around Pidge. “So, you gonna try and sneak a few in tonight?” He asked her. 

 

Pidge inspected her glasses and smirked. “How do you know I haven't  _ already _ ?”

 

Lance gasped and put a hand on his chest. “You  _ didn't _ ! How?” 

 

Pidge shrugged and pointed to a guy at the bar. “Bought me a shot without me even asking. Then he just high fived me and let me leave. It was chill.” 

 

Lance held his own hand up for her to slap. “Nice.”

 

“Yeah, especially since I'm both broke and underage.”

Lance removed his arm from Pidge’s shoulders when he saw Keith approach the table with Hunk, and took the drinks from his boyfriend. “Thank you, sweetie. Have I told you how amazing you are, today?” He leaned over to greet Keith with a kiss as he slid into the booth beside him. 

 

“No, but I wasn't holding it against you,” Keith replied, giving Lance a wink. 

 

Lance clutched his chest. “You make me  _ weak! _ ” 

 

Keith laughed and wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist. Hunk slid into the other side of the booth, and Pidge instigated a round of people-watching. 

 

After a little while, they got bored and went upstairs to play darts. To Lance’s dismay, Keith picked Pidge as his partner over him; to Keith’s chagrin, Lance was  _ way _ better at darts than he gave him credit for. Lance smirked over at his now-pouting boyfriend and shrugged. “They don’t call me a  _ sharpshooter  _ for nothing.” Keith rolled his eyes at the finger guns directed at him, but gave Lance a congratulatory kiss anyway.

 

One of the team’s favorite things about Smythe’s was the “power hour” from midnight to 1am every Friday; unfortunately, this usually ended up being Lance’s downfall. Keith and Hunk were basically fifty percent of his impulse control (each), and that night they were caught up in a game of pool when midnight rolled around. By the time they returned to Lance’s side, he was already hammered. Pidge sat on a stool and cackled as Lance showered Keith in praise until Keith’s face turned crimson. Hunk just leaned against the bar, head in his hands.

 

“Keith... _ Keith, _ ” Lance whispered loudly in Keith’s ear. 

 

Keith turned to face him and squeaked when warm lips connected with his. He pulled away and looked at Lance with red cheeks. “ _ Lance, we are in public, _ ” he hissed, catching Lance’s wandering hands before they could go anywhere indecent. Lance stuck out his bottom lip. 

 

“You’re lame,” he said, pouting, “I look so cute tonight, too, but you don’t even wanna kiss me.” 

 

Keith sighed and pressed a kiss to Lance’s temple. “You’re super drunk, and I don’t want to gross anyone out with a make-out session.” He smiled at him, and Lance stuck out his tongue. 

 

“ _ Fine _ , be lame. But you need to catch up.” He stuck his drink in Keith’s face, and he reluctantly took a sip from it. Lance laughed at the face he made. 

 

“Ugh, what  _ is  _ that??” He said, gagging a little. Lance put the straw back in his mouth (with difficulty) and took a thoughtful sip. 

 

“Ummmmm I think it’s a whiskey sour? Maybe? I don’t think my tastebuds work anymore,” Lance replied, shrugging. 

 

“Oh, well you  _ know  _ I don’t like sour stuff, so of  _ course _ it’s gross,” Keith said, laughing. He ordered a drink and tapped it against Lance’s. “Guess I’m gonna have to get on your level, huh?” He asked, smirking. The look of glee on Lance’s face was priceless. 

 

To Hunk’s dismay, they stayed out until 4am. “Thank god it’s a Saturday today…” he mumbled as he corralled the wasted couple. Pidge trailed behind them, eyes glazed over from exhaustion. Hunk kept the boys upright as they stumbled down the street, giggling uncontrollably. 

 

“You’re  _ beautiful _ ,” Keith gushed, poking Lance’s cheek. “I like you a  _ whole  _ lot.” He gave Lance a dopey smile and Lance’s face flushed. 

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen!” Lance said, throwing his arms around his boyfriend. “In the whole  _ universe _ !” He pressed multiple kisses into the side of Keith’s neck, making him giggle. 

 

“How would  _ you  _ know? You’ve never been to space!” Keith countered, grinning. He was obviously fishing for more compliments, and Lance was more than willing to indulge him. He rarely got to see drunk Keith, but when he did, he never failed to embarrass him with praise.

 

“How do you know? I could be a space ranger for all you know,” Lance replied, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly. Keith’s jaw dropped and he lowered his voice to a (loud) whisper. 

 

“Wait... _ have you been to space? _ ” He asked, tugging on Lance’s shirt. “ _ Did you see an alien? _ ”

 

Lance kissed him on the nose and laughed. “No, I haven’t been to space, and the closest thing I’ve seen to an alien is you when you’ve had too much caffeine,” he said. Keith sighed, blowing a raspberry at the ground. They continued down the street, arm-in-arm in front of Hunk, until they came upon the traffic cones. 

 

Lance gave Hunk a furtive and guilty glance, then sprinted over and grabbed one of the neon orange cones. He picked it up and cradled it in his arms. He stuck his tongue out at Hunk when he was told to put it down. 

 

“This traffic cone is a loyal servant of the people and does not deserve to be so wrongly treated! They just  _ left _ him here, out in the cold, even though he was protecting the citizens! Steering them away from danger like a  _ good  _ public servant!” Lance cried, running further down the sidewalk to get away from Hunk, who was not having it.

 

“Lance,  _ no _ ,” Hunk and Pidge shouted simultaneously, and Keith just started giggling. 

 

Lance flashed him a grin and held it high above his head, marching along the street. “Lance,  _ yes! _ I can give him a home and show him the love he deserves!” 

 

“Noooo, don’t do that,” Pidge wailed, practically dragging herself across the pavement. 

 

Lance grabbed Keith’s arm with one hand, and continued to hold the cone aloft in the other. He sprinted toward his and Hunk’s apartment, yelling: 

 

“OHANA MEANS FAMILY AND THAT MEANS NO ONE GETS LEFT BEHIND OR FORGOTTEN!”

 

Hunk rubbed his eyes with a fist and sighed heavily. “ _ Fine _ , Lance. We can keep the cone.” Stopping Lance’s cheer in its tracks, he held up a hand and pointed to him. Lance was blocking the door. “Now move aside, I am in need of drunk French toast, stat.”

 

They all practically fell into the apartment in a heap, and Lance leapt up to rush (with the cone) to his bedroom. Keith sat on the floor, cross-legged and dazed, and watched him go. He blinked up at Hunk and asked, “Toast?”

 

Hunk chuckled and helped him up from the floor, and just barely caught Pidge before she face-planted onto the carpet. He moved into the kitchen and started to make breakfast. Keith and Pidge sat on barstools, leaning on the counter with slack faces. Pidge drooled a little onto her sleeve. They all jumped when Lance rushed back into the room, pushing the cone in front of him. He came to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen and stood up proudly. The cone was dressed in a dark green scarf and pink sunglasses. 

 

He gestured toward it with a flourish. “Meet Slav the Traffic Cone.”

 

***

 

For the following year, Slav was taken from apartment to apartment until he was confiscated by campus police. It was a dark day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone asks...  
> Yes, I have picked up a traffic cone.  
> Yes, I know they're hecka heavy.  
> Yes, I realize Lance lifted it with one hand. 
> 
>  
> 
> _he strong_


End file.
